


spinning like

by bestliars



Series: spaces lived without [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Minnesota Wild, Nashville Predators, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan might know where he belongs, but he doesn’t know what he’s doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spinning like

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn’t planned on writing a companion to “Boo, Forever,” but after hearing some different interpretations of this story I really wanted to. There’s more on why in the endnote.

**(one)**  
When Ryan is sixteen he touches Zach Parise’s hand for the first time. It isn’t the first time they’ve met, they’d played against each other for years before this, but it’s the first time they touch skin against skin, palm to palm. Before this moment Parise was this flashy forward who thought he was a big deal, when really he was nothing special. Ryan went out of his way to check Parise extra hard — pretty boy could use getting roughed up a bit. Ryan liked listening to the curse words he’d spit back. He liked making Parise pay attention. Then they wind up on the same team for the U18s, and their hands touch, and then suddenly the whole world makes sense. Or at least it feels like the whole world, but Ryan is sixteen, and the whole word is just him and Zach, and it’s perfect, or close enough.

 **(two)**  
Bonds are normal. They’re biological. They’re meant to be. Only you aren’t supposed to talk about them in polite company. You’re not supposed to brag. Don’t mention it. They’re no one else’s business. Ryan was raised with good midwestern manners; don’t bring anything up if it might cause a stir. So Ryan and Zach don’t talk about it, to anyone, or even between themselves. It’s just how things are now, they’re bonded. They’ve achieved a state of togetherness that goes unspoken. They don’t try to find the words to describe what it feels like when they touch, or how hard it is to be apart. This is just how things are. They’ll handle it.

 **(three)**  
Bonds aren’t all the same. People think they are, people think know what it’s like from what they see in the movies, but that’s wrong, or at least that’s not what how it is for Ryan and Zach. They don’t have words. They can pass specific thoughts if they’re close enough and trying really hard, but mostly it’s all a haze of pain, anticipation, fear, adrenaline, arousal. Strong feelings that get backed up by a chemical reaction in the body are obvious, but the subtleties don’t translate well. The only time it’s crystal clear is when they’re touching, like the first time. Then it’s all perfect. Touching they can see into each other, through each other. The rest of the time their bond isn’t nearly so lucid, but Ryan is always aware of Zach’s existence.

 **(four)**  
Ryan wants to play hockey, he wants to go to college in Madison, he wants to get drafted into the NHL. This has always been what he wants. Having a bond with Zach doesn’t change that. It doesn’t alter his dreams. (That’s an absolute lie, his dreams are different now, he didn’t used to have sex dreams about Zach Parise. Well, not regularly, but with a mouth like that, who could blame him.) Ryan doesn’t want to give anything up because of Zach. He won’t. He couldn’t ask that of Zach either. It means not telling people about their bond. They don’t want it to be a _thing._ They can’t let it define them. Or maybe they just don’t want to answer questions. They’re eighteen, and this is personal, don’t they deserve a little bit of privacy?

 **(five)**  
They’re good, or lucky, or both. They get drafted. Nashville and New Jersey. That’s very far apart, but they’ll live. They see each other when they can. North Dakota and Madison aren’t exactly close either, but they’ll manage. There are classes and games and people and parties to distract them. They’re both busy. It’s fine. There’s nothing else it can be.

 **(six)**  
Ryan and Zach have sex once, the summer before the lockout. Ryan is nineteen. It isn’t bad. It isn’t good either, not really. It’s easier with Zach than with anyone Ryan’s ever messed around with before. He trusts Zach absolutely. He doesn’t understand why they’re doing this, though. He doesn’t think Zach does either. It seems unnecessary. They’re already all that they are. Do they need to be this, too? Ryan isn’t sure. He guesses it’s worth trying. It can’t hurt. It feels nice? Pleasure in the echo chamber of their minds is almost too much. Ryan doesn’t know what to feel with all the sparks between their skin. It makes him want to shake apart. It makes it hard to breathe. Their bond is full of color and noise and heavy breathing. It’s incoherent. Ryan can’t think, Zach can’t either. He isn’t sure they should do this again. It was...good...or something. Mostly something. It’s Zach who says, “I think we’re better off as friends,” but Ryan agrees, even as he buries his face in Zach’s shoulder and holds him closer. They don’t need _sex,_ they just need each other like this. They just need to touch their hands together, skin against skin.

 **(seven)**  
Keeping secrets is hard, but necessary if they want to go on with their life. They don’t tell anyone. It’s in their medical records, but sealed. Lots of people don’t want the world to know about their bonds. It’s a human rights issue. There’s an ongoing public debate about who gets the privilege of privacy. Should the president be allowed to share thoughts with someone who hasn’t been elected? What does this mean for national security? What does this mean in terms of corporate espionage? Copyright law? It’s just a whole barrel of worms that they shouldn’t open.

Bonds are natural, and can be explained by science, that doesn’t mean some people don’t hate them. It doesn’t mean they aren’t controversial. The world still doesn’t really know what to do with the evidence that some people can kind of read each other’s minds. Ryan desperately doesn’t want to get in the middle of the ongoing debate over what to do with _people like him._

If this was public, Ryan would have to talk about himself. People would be looking at his life off the ice. He’d have to explain what the whole monumental fundamental _thing_ he has with Zach _means_. He can’t even do that for people he loves, how could he possibly do that for the whole world?

He’s resigned to the fact that playing hockey puts him in the public eye. That’s worth it. That doesn’t mean he’s okay with putting his guts on display. If he had a normal personal life — a girlfriend, a family, what he’s expected to have — he doesn’t think he’d want to talk about it. But Zach? And whatever they are? That doesn’t just sound _unpleasant,_ that sounds impossible.

 **(eight)**  
Ryan hadn’t planned for Shea. He’s twenty-one Shea’s rookie year. They get friendly, they start sleeping together, it’s cool. That’s all it’s ever supposed to be; something nice, something easy. They’ve been good together from the beginning. The sex is fantastic. Shea’s fun to play with. That’s all it’s ever supposed to be.

 **(nine)**  
Ryan and Zach don’t _talk_ as much as they should. It’s easy not to. They know all the important parts. They know the true things, the parts that don’t get said to anyone else. They text sometimes, and they call each other a lot, but that’s more because it feels good to hear each other’s voices than because there’s anything to say. They talk about their teams, and fishing, and baseball, and tv. Normal, boring, everyday things. Zach’s his best friend, the most important person in his life, his other half. Yet they don’t always talk about things that they should. They’re still humans with flaws, young men who struggle to articulate emotion. Though really, the emotions are covered; they _feel_ those. It’s the logistics and planning and future that goes undiscussed. They know they belong together, that they fit together a special way. The rest of it will figure itself out with time.

 **(ten)**  
People think bonds are about being complete, and having a place in the world. That’s one way of looking at it. It’s just as fair to say that having a bond means that alone they’re just pieces, that only together are they whole. They belong _together,_ that’s true. The other side of that says that being anywhere that sets them apart must be a bad fit. Ryan waves back and forth over which perspective is more accurate. It depends on the day.

 **(eleven)**  
There’s not one moment when Ryan falls in love with Shea. It’s a lot of little moments spread out over the years. It happens gradually. Ryan hardly notices it’s happening until he’s totally gone. He doesn’t remember the first time he said it. Probably during sex, or half asleep. It isn’t something he’s comfortable saying. It isn’t something he’s comfortable feeling. It’s scary: being that caught up in another person, wanting to to make it work, having to try.

 **(twelve)**  
The lines between friends and lovers can get all blurry. Ryan doesn’t really understand all the nuances. He doesn’t see why you’re supposed to care more about someone if there’s sex involved than if there isn’t. He doesn’t understand why the platonic isn’t just as valued and idealized as the romantic. He struggles with loving someone versus being in love with them. It’s just words that are supposed to mean something, _two different somethings,_ and Ryan doesn’t understand. Maybe this is the world failing to make sense, or maybe this is him failing to comprehend. Either way, it doesn’t work.

 **(thirteen)**  
Ryan doesn’t know how much Zach knows about Shea. He knows that Zach knows they sleep together, that they’re basically living together, that Shea’s important to Ryan. Ryan knows that Zach has had people in Jersey, on and off, never as long as Shea, never someone who’s team, but he’s had people who matter. That’s good, that they can have other people. It wouldn’t be good for them to go through life as half people, caught up in the ghost impressions of each other. That isn’t enough.

 **(fourteen)**  
By the time Ryan trusts Shea enough to tell him about Zach it’s probably too late. Ryan doesn’t get comfortable with anyone fast. It was easier with Shea than almost anyone else, but still. Zach is Ryan’s most important secret. Ryan and Shea had been sleeping together for more than a year before Ryan would have felt comfortable telling Shea about Zach. But then they’re in the playoffs, and Ryan doesn’t want to cause a distraction, and then it’s summer, and Ryan still hasn’t said anything. He knows he should. But it’s summer, so he goes home, and Shea goes home, and they don’t say anything. (He had a good summer. He hung out with Zach, slept well, didn’t have any headaches, got away from the world.) When he gets back to Nashville Shea presses him up against a wall and kisses him silly, then fucks him good, and anything Ryan might have thought he should say disappears.

 **(fifteen)**  
Ryan and Shea don’t talk as much as they should. They never _really_ talk. They just...keep doing whatever it is that they’re doing. It’s good. They talk about who’s getting groceries, and which house the dogs are staying at, ordinary things like that. They never talk about being exclusive, but they both stop sleeping other people during the season. Ryan never asks Shea about the summer. Ryan isn’t sure what he’d say if Shea asked him if he sleeps with other people in the summer. (In the summer Ryan falls asleep next to Zach, limbs tangled together. He wakes up feeling more rested than any other part of the year. He doesn’t hook up in the summer though, mostly because it’s too much work. It would mean talking to someone else, to make them care, to make himself care.) Ryan and Shea talk around things. They speak for each other. They say “we” and “us” and other people see them as a unit, an item, as partners, and neither of them dispute this idea. But they never actually talk about it. So really, who knows. There’s no record of what’s true or false. They’re living without definitions. 

**(sixteen)**  
Ryan feels better when Zach is where he can see him. He feels calmer. The world makes more sense when Zach’s nearby. Life goes so much easier when Ryan can reach out and touch Zach whenever he wants to. Ryan has spent a lot of time pretending that it doesn’t matter, that he’s alright in Nashville, when Zach’s in Jersey. That’s all a lie. He’s suffering, in sneaky, silent ways. He only notices how much it had hurt when he sees Zach and then things suddenly work. Ryan doesn’t know how much longer he can keep on pretending that he isn’t getting torn to shreds by their separation.

 **(seventeen)**  
Ryan should tell Shea about this. Maybe Shea would feel sorry for him and hold him closer and try to make it all better. Maybe Shea would be disgusted. Some people aren’t alright with bonds. Some people think they’re witchcraft, wrong, evil, and unnatural. Shea hasn’t said anything that suggests he believes those things, but maybe. Ryan can’t be sure. Shea will ask why Ryan didn’t tell him before now, and Ryan won’t have a good answer. It might make things a little bit better, or it could make things way worse. It would definitely change things. Ryan doesn’t like the sound of that. The way Ryan and Shea are now works. He’s happy, or happy enough, as happy as he thinks he can be. That’s fine. 

**(eighteen)**  
Ryan likes how tall Shea is. It makes him feel small and safe to lie in bed next to Shea. Sometimes Ryan has a hard time sleeping, but he likes listening to Shea breathe. It’s better than just the echo of Zach. With Shea next to him the empty spaces don’t feel so cold. It’s not enough, not nearly, but it’s better. Ryan wouldn't be half as alright if he didn’t have Shea to hold on to. Shea is almost enough.

 **(nineteen)**  
Telling Shea that he’s leaving is the hardest thing Ryan’s ever done. He doesn’t want to go, but he has to. He doesn’t want to hurt Shea, but he can’t stay. It doesn’t mean he loves Shea any less. It doesn’t mean their time together was less true. Ryan’s pretty sure he does a shit job of saying any of this to Shea, but he doesn’t really know how it could have gone better. He knows he didn’t say the right thing, but there wasn’t a right thing to say. The problem wasn’t that he’s bad with words, though that might be true. The problem was that words don’t fit together to say what Ryan wanted them to. He wanted to say impossible things. He wanted there to be a way that it could all work out.

 **(twenty)**  
Ryan’s stuck with this, with the bond. He wouldn’t have it any other way. This is how he’s supposed to be: with Zach. He’s done with trying to do anything else. This is his chance to be where he belongs: where Zach is. Anything else was bound to be wrong. It was cruel of him to try.

 **(twenty-one)**  
Right now Ryan’s pretty fucking miserable, deservedly so. It’s hard. He misses Shea. It’ll get better, though. It’ll stop hurting. He has a chance to be happy here. He has Zach, who matters more than anything. He can hold out his hand, and Zach will be right there to hold onto, palm to palm, skin against skin. Zach loves him, Zach wants to make him smile, Zach makes perfect sense. With time, the heartbreak of leaving Shea will fade until it’s only an old scar. Maybe Ryan will find someone new, or maybe he won’t. Even if he never falls in love like that again, he’ll never be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> After I wrote “Boo, Forever” a couple different people pointed out to me how fucked up Ryan’s actions were, in ways I wasn’t really aware of when I was writing. I was writing from a place where I knew that Ryan was a sympathetic character, because it’s Ryan Suter, and he’s my favorite, of course he’s sympathetic. It was really interesting to have other people who didn’t come in with my biases find something in my writing that I didn’t really mean to put there, especially because it’s an interpretation that I was able to find and thought was pretty compelling.
> 
> “Boo, Forever” is a very slight little story. It’s all in Shea’s head, and he’s very hurt and emotional. Going only from “Boo, Forever” there’s nothing that makes Ryan’s behavior seem at all justifiable. I think this is something I failed at as writer. I would have liked to done something that suggested that the situation was not as simple as Shea made it seem. Sometimes this will happen, that you forget to put an idea in a story because it’s obvious to you. Also, I didn’t make it clear enough that Ryan and Zach’s soul bond was fairly platonic, probably because I knew it was and forgot to be explicit about these things. (There could also be a discussion about finding what we expect to find even if it isn’t there, but that is mostly a different discussion.)
> 
> This is why I love fandom — because I get to have discussions with people about these kinds of things, and hear what you think about what I’m doing. 
> 
> Anyway, if nothing else I guess I can be proud of writing really close 3rd person pov.


End file.
